Monday

boat ride

Our friends live across the lake where we visited last week. We can drive around it but it takes a few hours and as with just about everything it's faster to go through it than around it. There are a few ways to cross a lake - most of them involve floating. We chose a boat.

The boats around lake Atitlan ain't real fancy. They're fiberglass with Suzuki motors and a little roof. Mornings are calm. Glassy, no, but not yet choppy. Some lakes are stranger than others and Atitlan lives on the stranger end. Mysterious eddies, myths, mists and Xocomil - the Mayan water god who gives name to the Galilean storms whipped up in this volcano rimmed caldera lake.

Our ride was choppy. We sat in front. Planned what to do if the boat capsized. Who gets which kid. Normal stuff. BabyM missed her nap. Jenny had BoyD who wanted to look out the side. And we chopped along. The bow slapping and blocking our view. Every down-stroke of it nearly knocking us free of breath. A kidney jarring trip. And BabyM did something amazing. As I held her tight in my arms, warming her against the wind, my bicep her pillow...she slept.

Peace.

Our boat bounced so hard that my rear end caught air.

Peace.

We laughed at the force and noise.

Peace.

Where was she? On a boat? On a lake? In a storm? None of those matter. Where was she?

In her father's arms. Safe. Shielded. Warm. I would use all the power that is within me to protect, comfort and carry her. My comfort? Irrelevant. My safety? Unimportant.

And it was not lost on us. A child sleeping in her father's arms while all around her were noise and violence. She was being slammed around just like us. Her ride no less jarring. One thing differed. Her proximity to her father.

How rough does the journey get? How tired do we get? How much more is our Heavenly Father able to carry of through? If I use all of my power - how much greater is the Father's power? How strong are the arms which carry the children of God? How well do we sleep when the journey gets rough?

I know how well my daughter slept. In my arms. And how deeply I loved her then. And I saw in the tiniest way how deep the Father's love for us.

2 comments:

mcfly3 said...

Great post, Brandon.

*thoughtfully scratches his mangy beard*

You mean she didn't worry about the condition of the boat, gauge your ability to protect her using her circumstances and finite brain to make the calculations, fret about the lack of details available in regards to your destination, add up all the dangers of the journey, commence to ciphering like Jethro to determine if there was enough gas in the boat, if y'all had enough money/supplies for lunch that day (and the next, and the next, etc) the how, when, and why of the return trip, and so on (and called it being 'prudent')? She didn't worry about any of that because in her father she had all she needed? Oh...okay. Has she started teaching classes yet, 'cause I'd like to know where to sign up. :)

And Who was that Who said to approach your faith like a child? I know someone did...hmmmm....

(ciphering is, I'm sure, a phonetic spelling, but it was THE right word, so I had to go with it! haha. Thanks for the reminder on what those youngins can and have taught us all)

Brandon and Jenny said...

cipher is a great word! Commence to ciphering - fantastic.

Parenting is a schooling. No doubt about it.